Sonnet XXXIII, by
William Shakespeare
Full
many a glorious morning I have seen
Flatter the
mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gliding pale streams with heavenly
alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his
visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out, alack,
he was but one hour mine;
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no
whit disdaineth:
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
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